Child of Fate
by Medea5
Summary: A stormy day at the Centra Orphanage, and a young Seifer's first encounter with his destiny. My first fic here! Please R + R, thanks!


::: child of fate :::

~ child of fate ~  
by Medea (medea_s@yahoo.com).

Seifer, FFVIII and everything else belongs to Squaresoft, and not me. I'm simply borrowing them to explore an idea. Thanks to LightSoul for writing a script, which I borrowed from for a little part in the fic.

- - - - -

The wind was relentless that day.

On the jagged rocks sat a young boy, his downy golden hair fluttering about his face as the wind danced about. For the last few days there had been storms that churned the sea shore, and the usual nighttime silence was ravaged by rain, thunder, and the wind. 

The boy's aquamarine eyes looked out to the horizon, where grey seas dissolved grey sky. It had been nearly three years since he was first brought to the lighthouse orphanage, bringing with him nothing but a name - Seifer Almasy. The other children pretended to be nice to him, but he just didn't fit in. There was another boy, however, who everyone seemed to like better.

His name was Leonhart, and Seifer was terribly jealous. He was quiet, always kept to himself, but yet he was popular. How could that be? He wasn't anything special.

But neither was Seifer, or so he thought.

And so, the spunky little blonde would retaliate. Be it name calling, pinching, or stealing off with favourite possessions, Seifer would _make_ the others like him... or fear him.

"Seifer?" A warm, resonant voice called him. Blinking the tears from his eyes, the boy turned his head to find the source. "What are you doing out here, my child?"

"Nothin', Matron," he said, his voice proud and stubborn. "Jus' sittin'."

The woman with silken black hair climbed up to sit next to the boy on the rocks. She smiled softly, her eyes bright and comfortable. The boy couldn't help but respond with a cheesy grin.

"This is a very nice place, Seifer." Matron smiled. "But I don't want you to catch a cold." 

"Aww, Matron, I won't," he said, ready to protest any reprimand he might receive. 

"Very well. But when you get the sniffles, don't share them with me, ok?" 

The boy grinned. "Okay."

Moving gracefully, the slender woman climbed back down to the sandy ground, leaving Seifer as she walked back to the lighthouse. Another one of her young boys was not inside the shelter of the orphanage, and so she went to look for him. She had been worried about Squall lately, he had been somewhat different since Ellone left. The faint sound of heavy boots and metal on the stone pavement made her stop in her tracks. A tall figure dressed in black was standing in the courtyard, his familiar face washed with anguish. 

Edea approached cautiously. "Excuse me, have you seen a little boy?" 

The wind lapped his hair about his youthful visage, and Edea found herself staring at his scar. "You don't have to worry. The boy won't go anywhere."

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked into the stranger's stormgrey eyes, recognising something she couldn't quite place. "I think so, too," she responded, her look softening. "Poor thing..."

The wind howled, increasing in forcefulness. The air itself seemed to ripple, until it tore apart completely. From a void staggered a shape, dressed in ragged robes that were once exquisite, and grey hair flailing about wretchedly. Edea looked upon the creature with pity. She was a fallen Sorceress, searching for one to pass her ability onto so she could submerge into eternal rest. 

"...You're alive?!" The stranger unsheathed a glimmering silver gunblade, and wielded it before him.

"The Sorceress?" Edea blinked, and cast a questioning look at the young man.

"Yes, Matron. We had defeated her..." His voice contained a fierce but tired determination as he watched the Sorceress lurch forward towards them.

"P-Please..." the woman stammered, her golden eyes pleading. "I... can't... disappear yet..." Edea took a step back, her pulse racing. Her eyes darted about, and thought of the children. What if they received this Sorceress' powers? There was only one thing she could do.

She moved over to Ultimecia's gasping form, and placed a hand on her shoulder. A violet light surrounded them, and Edea could feel the familiar sting in her veins. The sweet pain seared through her delicate frame as the power drained from one Sorceress to create another.

Before she disappeared, Ultimecia looked up at a little golden face that was peering out from behind the wall. The boy's mouth gaped open, but did not shy away from her gaze. With wide eyes, he watched as she faded, mesmerized by something he couldn't comprehend. 

After that fateful day, the storms resided, revealing sunny skies once again. Seifer, however, was plagued with thunderous dreams, inspired by the maelstrom in that woman's golden eyes. She spoke to him, too. Her voice reverberated hushed whispers when the waves crashed, and boomed when the thunder rolled across the ageless skies.

And although he may forget, for now he knew his purpose, his destiny.


End file.
